


We’re Gonna Be Fine

by sevenseasofhi



Series: And We Were Fine [1]
Category: Queen (Band)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-20
Updated: 2019-08-20
Packaged: 2020-09-19 00:42:02
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,379
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20322238
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sevenseasofhi/pseuds/sevenseasofhi
Summary: After breaking up with Roger Taylor two years ago, your friend Freddie convinces you to come to a party he’s throwing for Queen. Nothing bad could possibly come of this... Right?





	We’re Gonna Be Fine

“I don’t know, Freddie..” You trail off into the phone. 

“You absolutely must come, I won’t have anything else!” Your friend Freddie says, his tone leaving no room for argument.

“He’ll be there, I’m sure.” You say vaguely, knowing that Freddie will understand who you mean.

“It is his party too, darling.” Freddie reminds you gently.

“It’s just not a good idea.” You say, biting your lip nervously.

“It’s been years since you’ve come to one of our parties. Don’t you think Roger will be fine?” Freddie asks you, and you can’t control your wince. 

You and Roger Taylor broke up nearly two years ago, but it still makes your chest ache to hear his name. You don’t tell Freddie that it’s not just Roger you’re worried about. You haven’t seen him since the two of you broke up, and you’re not sure if you will be fine.

“I-“ 

“You can even bring that boy of yours! What’s his name? Chuck?” Freddie’s gaining steam now and you can see yourself starting to lose this argument.

“Charlie.” You correct Freddie absently. “He wouldn’t be able to come, he’s away for work.”

You think back on the first time you told Freddie that you were seeing someone, how hard he tried to seem normal and happy for you through his shock. He’s gotten much better since, claiming he just needed to stop thinking of it as “Y/N and Roger”. 

“Don’t you want to come out and support us?” Freddie says, and you groan internally at the low blow he’s just used. You can practically feel his puppy dog eyes through the phone.

“Of course I want to support Queen.” You’re quick to reassure him. You take in a breath to continue, but before you can speak, Freddie’s cooing excitedly into the phone.

“Wonderful! We’ll see you there, remember it’s at 8!” 

“Freddie-“

“Must go now, goodbye, love!”

The line goes dead, and you set your phone down, your shoulders slumping in defeat. You let out a deep sigh and rub your temples with your fingers. You’ve apparently got a party to get ready for. 

-

You wear a dress that feels like an old friend, dark with a lace overlay, but nothing flashy. You’re sure you’ll be horribly underdressed for a party of Fred’s standards, but chose comfort over flash for the situation you’re about to walk into. 

It’s when you’re doing your makeup that it hits you. You’re putting your hair up the way he likes, swiping on the shade of lipstick he says he loves to kiss off of you. You freeze in place, staring at yourself in the mirror, shock painting your features. 

“God.” You whisper into the quiet room, your eyes falling shut with a sigh. 

Even after all this time, Roger Taylor’s got you. Heart, body, and soul. Every part of you wants to check up him, make sure he’s happy. Your eyes trail guiltily down to the diamond on your left hand, the engagement ring Charlie had given you a few days ago staring up at you in judgement.

You take a deep breath and run your finger over the top of the ring. It was a good idea to say yes to Charlie, it made sense and everyone wanted you two to be together. It was the right decision... Wasn’t it? 

You shake your head, letting the thoughts rest while you get ready to go. You grab your purse and a denim jacket that you’d stolen from Deacy years ago, and hail a cab to take you to Freddie’s.

You twist your fingers together on the ride there, nerves increasing the closer you get to his house. Freddie won’t mind that you’re going to be almost an hour late, always going on about how fashionable a good entrance is, and it’s not like the party will be winding down anytime soon. You’ll be lucky if you can escape before midnight.

“Here you are, Miss.” The cabbie says, pulling you out of your thoughts. You apologize and pay him, stepping out onto the curb uncertainly. 

This is ridiculous, you tell yourself fiercely. 

How many parties have you been to for Queen over the years? You steel your shoulders and stride up to the door, chuckling a little at the sign someone propped by the door telling everyone to not bother knocking and just come in.

You push the door open with a slight grimace, but the crowds that greet you don’t show any sign of Roger or his band mates. You start inside, dodging a few people who have definitely gotten a head start on drinks, and start your search for Freddie.

“Y/N?” A surprised voice asks behind you and you whirl around to where the question came from. 

Brian is standing in the doorway to the kitchen, a look on his face like he can’t believe what he’s seeing. You break out into a grin at the sight of him, forgetting why you were nervous to be here in the first place, and run towards him for a hug. He hugs you back, laughing in disbelief.

“Hey, Bri.” You sigh into his coat. You haven’t seen him in almost a year, but hugging him is like falling back into a memory.

“What are you doing here?” Brian asks, smiling through his confusion.

“Well, Freddie called and...” You end with a shrug, Brian nodding his understanding.

“We’ve all been there before.” 

“Y/N?!” 

Deacy yelling your name is the only warning you’re given before his arms are wrapping around you from behind. You laugh, settling your hands over his arms as a way of hugging him back. 

“Hey, John.” You grin, you and Brian sharing exasperated looks. 

“I’d know that jacket anywhere, you little thief.” John says, shifting so he just has an arm around your shoulders. You grin up at him wickedly. 

“Well it always did look better on me.”

“Very funny, now let me look at you.” Deacy says, pulling away and spinning you around by the shoulders. 

“I haven’t changed.” You laugh, but let him scan your face nonetheless.

“You’ve gotten more beautiful.” You’d recognize that voice anywhere, and it makes the breath leave your chest like a punch.

John and Brian have frozen, turning to face Roger with wide eyes. You have to force yourself to look at him, and it hurts exactly as much as you thought it would. 

“I didn’t know you were coming.” Roger says, going for casual but missing by a mile. He never could hide anything from you anyway. 

“Fred called. I’ll always come out to support Queen.” You say, thankful your voice is staying even.

“You always were the loudest person in the crowd.” Roger says, smiling softly at whatever memory popped into his head. Your answering smile is automatic and bright, the sight of Roger’s joy always contagious.

“Oh my god, like the time when we were still doing pub gigs and there was a show where only about three people were actually listening.“ Brian says, winding up for a story. “I swear the only reason we made it through was because of you bouncing around and singing along the whole time.” 

“I was so sweaty at the end of that gig.” You wrinkle your nose at that particular memory.

“You just matched the rest of us.” Deacy snorts. 

“Remember that time that we came off of stage and Roger tried to kiss you but you said he was too sweaty and so you sprayed him with a water bottle?” Brian asks, and you see Roger’s and Deacy’s eyes go wide at the reminder of you two as a couple. There’s a couple painful seconds of silence before you speak.

“If I remember correctly, after that you all piled on top of me anyway and I had to take a shower.” You bump your shoulder into Brian’s to diffuse the situation.

“God, I can’t believe you agreed to tour with us after that.” Deacy says, and you all laugh, quickly forgetting the awkwardness.

“Neither could my parents, they almost had heart attacks when I told them.” You say.

“Y/N, darling!” Freddie’s voice carries over to us from the top of the stairs and then he’s rushing over to your side.

“Hey, Fred!” You say, bracing yourself for an enthusiastic hug.

“I was beginning to wonder if you were going to come.” Freddie teases you, and you pull back with a grin.

“You did always go on about being fashionably late.”

“You got me there!” Freddie laughs, then turns to the rest of the guys. “Our biggest fan needs a drink, excuse us.”

Freddie grabs your hand and drags you away from the guys without another word. You follow along easily, used to Freddie’s antics. Not to mention you wouldn’t mind a drink right about now. 

Fred leads you through the kitchen, grabbing a bottle of what looks like whiskey and then continuing on until he finds an unoccupied room. 

“How are you doing?” He says shutting the door behind the two of you and handing you the bottle of whiskey. You take a swig before you answer.

“I’ve been better. It’s nice to see Deacy and Bri, but I have to admit, I wasn’t prepared to see Roger.” You sigh, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand after taking another mouthful.

“I’m so sorry, I meant to be the first one to find you when you got here, but you weren’t exactly on time.” He apologizes, but not without a little bit of good natured teasing and you snort.

“It’s fine, Brian just found me instead.” You assure Freddie. “Look at the size of this house and three out of four Queen members found me in 10 minutes.” 

“Well Roger always did have a weirdly accurate sense of where you were in a room.” Freddie shrugs and you can’t help but agree.

It reminds you of a time you lost Roger in a pub and got cornered by a guy who’d had a few too many and wouldn’t leave you alone. Not even a minute later, Roger appeared by your side, saving you and pulling you back over to your friends.

“Y/N, darling?” Freddie asks you gently, then continues when you look up at him. “Where’d you go?”

“Fell back into a memory.” You shrug, before pasting a smile on your face. “But you’re missing your party! Let’s go.”

You take a couple of gulps of the whiskey. It’s not enough to get drunk knowing your tolerance, but it should help make this easier. You ignore the concerned look on Freddie’s face and open the door to the hallway. 

You and Freddie walk toward the living room where most of the party is happening, but halfway through you lose him. You shrug, used to everyone around wanting a piece of Freddie, and continue by yourself. 

They’re playing upbeat music, and you look at the crowd of people in the middle of the room and all the furniture pushed to the sides of the room. In the old days, you and Deacy would’ve been right in the middle of that, bopping along to the music and trying to convince Roger to dance with you. He’d smile then tell you maybe next time, sitting and watching you and Deacy fondly. 

The song changes to one you recognize from Queen’s last album, Don’t Stop Me Now, and you find yourself drawn in by the beat. You shed your jacket and set it down on a chair with your purse before craning your head and looking around hopefully. Your face lights up when you spot Deacy and you yell over the crowd to get his attention.

“John Deacon!” 

His head pops up from the conversation he’d been having and as soon as he catches your eye, he gets your intent. You two start towards each other, making room for yourselves in the middle of the dance floor and start moving to the music. The best part about dancing with Deacy is that he gets so absolutely into it that nothing could break his concentration. 

“I’ve missed you!” You laugh, as John grabs your hand and spins you around.

“You too! No one is as good a dance partner as you.” Deacy grins at you.

The two of you dance through the whole song, not even pausing when the next one comes on. You keep it up for a few more songs before John starts breathing heavily. When the song ends and you have to wait for someone to change the album, John grabs your hand to get your attention.

“I’m thinking I need to sit this one out for awhile.” He says breathlessly, and you laugh.

“Someone’s getting old, John.” You wink at him. 

“Anyway, I’ve gotta go find Veronica.” John says, pointedly ignoring your insult. “Make sure you find her before you leave, she’ll want to see you.”

“Will do!” You promise excitedly. You’ve missed Veronica and it’ll be nice to see her again. 

John leaves and when the music starts back up again, you join back in seamlessly with everyone else. A few songs in and a slow song starts, everyone on the dance floor partnering up for it so you shrug and start to leave the floor. You’re stopped by a hand on your wrist and you turn, expecting to have to turn down some poor guy, but the sight you’re greeted with makes you speechless. 

Roger’s standing there with a nervous look on his face, but he meets your eyes like his life depends on it. 

“Do you wanna dance?” He asks, clearing his throat after and glancing at the floor for just a second. 

“I thought you didn’t dance?” You’re so shocked, it’s the only thing you can think to say. You’re painfully aware of Roger’s hand on your wrist, the feeling of his fingers brushing the soft skin making your face heat up. This is the first time you’ve felt his skin in two years and it takes your breath away.

“I always regretted that.” Roger says, looking nearly pained and it confused you. 

“What do you mean?” You ask.

“After you left me,” Roger starts and it makes you swallow painfully around a lump in your throat at how much it looks like it hurt him to say that. “I always wished that I’d said yes to dancing with you. Every time, I should’ve been out here with you. I just didn’t know it then. I’m sorry.”

“Rog...” You breathe out at his honestly, his words tearing your chest open.

“Please dance with me?” He asks again. “I told myself if I ever saw you again, I’d ask.” 

“Of course I’ll dance with you.” You say, your eyes filling with tears that you fight to keep from falling.

Roger’s face is filled with surprised wonder, but he doesn’t hesitate to pull you into his arms, like he’s afraid you’ll change your mind if he waits too long. His arms are around your waist and your chin is resting on his shoulder, your fingers clinging lightly to his shirt. It feels achingly familiar, like all those nights you two would just sit together holding each other and listening to album after album.

You move slightly side to side, more swaying than dancing, but it’s still so nice. You close your eyes and let yourself lean into him, his familiar scent calming you down. You turn your head to the side so you’re laying it down on his shoulder, and he breathes out a sigh. You settle your arms tighter around his neck, causing your engagement ring to brush against your other arm. 

At the reminder of Charlie, the weight of your ring seems to increase like an anchor pulling you down into deep water you don’t know how to get out of. You pull away from Roger quickly before the song is even over, and he inhales sharply at the loss of contact.

“Y/N-“ 

“I have to go!” You choke out, pushing through the crowd to get to your stuff so you can leave. 

“Wait!” Roger yells, but you duck under someone’s arms, your shorter height working to your advantage, and leave Roger behind. 

You half jog through the crowds, making it all the way to the door and out onto the lawn before you hear Roger’s voice again. You wiggle your ring off your finger, the weight of it threatening to crush you if it stays on, and you shove it in your purse while you look frantically for a cab. You curse the fact that you took a cab here, because now you won’t be able to make a quick getaway, no cabs in sight. 

“Please, tell me what’s wrong!” Roger calls out, catching up to you and breathing deeply. 

“I shouldn’t have come.” You reply, a hysterical laugh threatening to bubble up out of your chest at the situation you’d let yourself be dragged into. You should’ve know that seeing Roger again would be heartbreaking.

“What do you mean?” He asks, his confused concern making you feel a little angry all of the sudden.

“What do I mean?” You repeat with a bitter chuckle. “How about the fact that you’re my ex, that we broke up years ago, that I got engaged last week?”

Rogers expression drops the more you say, but at the last thing, he whips his head up, eyes wide and lips pressed together.

“You’re engaged?” It’s almost a whisper, like he’s afraid if he says it out loud it’ll have to be true.

“Yes!” You burst out, and Roger actually flinches slightly, but doesn’t look away once. “And that’s the problem! Because he’s perfectly nice and he wants to take care of me, and he’s actually there.” You take a deep breath before continuing, Roger’s eyes fixed firmly on your face. “But when my friends and I were talking about what it would be like to walk down the aisle..”

You trail off and drop your gaze to the ground in front of you. Roger grabs your hand in his, both of you holding on desperately.

“When I pictured walking down the aisle, all I could see was you waiting at the end for me.” You finish quietly, squeezing Roger’s hand as you still can’t meet his eyes. “How fucked up is that?”

“I still love you.” Roger says, and the absolute confidence in his voice startles you enough that you finally look up and catch his gaze.

“You what?” You breathe out, disbelief and hope evident in your tone.

“We made a mistake, love.” Roger says, reaching out with one hand to brush some of your hair behind your ear, the gesture automatic. You rest your cheek against his hand without hesitation. “You and I belong together. I left you alone these past two years because I thought you were happy, better off without me.”

“I’ve always been better with you.” You cut in, not wanting Roger to ever believe he’s not good enough for you.

His entire expression melts, and you can see the tears pooling in his eyes, just as you let yours spill over.

“I love you too. Never stopped in fact.” You laugh tearfully.

Roger’s expression is a beautiful mix of relief and unbridled joy and he wastes no time pulling you into his embrace. You’ve missed being in his arms, and after two years it feels like coming home. Roger’s lips press against yours and you sigh into the kiss, a weight lifting off of your chest. You pull away before it goes very far though, and Roger looks at you in question. 

“We’ve got a lot of stuff to fix, and it might take time but... I’m in if you’re in?” You ask him, smiling up at him timidly. His confusion clears and he pulls you in for a tight hug.

“I’m all in, my love.” The words, whispered against your skin, are the most beautiful thing you’ve ever heard. You turn your face into the crook of his neck. “We’re gonna be fine.” 

“We’re gonna be fine.” You echo him. 

It’s not said as a reassurance, but a promise. You’ve got each other back now, and you’re never letting go again.

**Author's Note:**

> hey im seven-seas-of-hi on tumblr if u wanna come say howdy


End file.
